


Holy Hell

by IneffableDoll



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Wings, Angel/Demon Relationship, First Meetings, In the Beginning, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Scene: Garden of Eden (Good Omens), Swearing, rating is for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 11:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22849333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableDoll/pseuds/IneffableDoll
Summary: So, an angel. On the wall.Distinct lack of flaming sword.Questions meant trouble.And curiosity killed the snake before, and it would again and again.Let’s see what happened next, yeah?
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	Holy Hell

**Author's Note:**

> This is my attempt at reimagining the opening scene to Good Omens, inspired by both the show and the book, if it had been told from Crawly/Crowley's perspective. It's a little all-over-the-place but, hopefully, it's a fun read! Enjoy!
> 
> All characters and such belong to Niel Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, I just own this writing.

Holy Hell.

Is that what this was?

Hell wasn’t that nice a place. I know, real shocker, don’t be too surprised. But it’s not home to lost, depressed souls for nothing, and Hell if they’d let you forget about it. Eternal punishment, my ass. Putting demon doodles on a deck of cards didn’t mean they weren’t beating him at poker.

  
Not much of a gambler (he’s the only demon who’s ever played fair).

  
Who’d of thought?

Now Heaven, that was an idea.

  
Probably worse, he figured then, having no memories of it from Before Crap Went Down. He didn’t know yet that he’d visit one day to be set on fire and decide, no. Not probably, definitely. Home to all the found, happy souls, and Heaven be damned indeed for ever advertising a shitty hospital of sedation shots as one with golden roads.

  
At least it was clean, like the inside of a freshly oiled pine coffin.

  
But this was something different, something between and yet unrelated to both parties, and we aren’t there just yet.

This was a garden. With apples.

  
He’d never had an apple before (no one had, they were rather new, you see), but the fact that they were off limits meant he was instantly curious. Why was the apple forbidden, exactly?  
One way to find out.

  
(I mean, he could ask, but God had Issues when it came to questions.)

There were two creatures lounging in the garden, kept safe (trapped) by the surrounding walls. They looked just like angels, or even like demons. But they didn’t have wings, not of any color, and were distinctly lacking in both the reek of celestial prickliness of angels and the rotting contempt of the demon musk.

  
They smelled like earth, which itself was a new scent and one he couldn’t really describe yet. He’d figure it out eventually, but he needed time to find the words. Time for the words to be made.

  
Anyway, these were God’s new toys.

  
Interesting.

  
Surely, She wouldn’t mind if he played with them a little, too?

Crawly would forever be envious of Beelzebub for being able to take on the form of a fly – transport was a lot easier with wings, limbs aside. Snakes, less so (though the name fit for him, not that he was really a fan of it. Ought to change it, actually). On the other hand, much less likely to be swatted away, more likely to be heard, noticed.

  
But only noticed by who he wanted to be seen by. He had spotted a guard before (or rather, a pair of wings, iridescently pale). There had also been a flaming sword involved, which was interesting. Fire was kinda Hell’s thing, burning in eternity and all that. But hey, that’s cool. Heaven’s branching out.

  
So. Just a little temptation. Don’t get caught by the hot angel (as in, the sword? Don’t read too much into it. Or do).

  
What can it hurt, really?

She said the apple tasted like sunshine feels, which Crawly made some vague sense out of. He figured that was good, the cold-blooded serpent that he was. He supposed sunshine meant your tail didn’t go numb.

  
The sun was new, too, so he wasn’t totally sure what he thought of it yet. It was really damn bright. He wished he had something to keep the light out of his eyes; it made him think altogether too much about angels and halos, which is honestly never something you want to think about when you’re Fallen.

  
Turns out the fruit was forbidden for a reason, because the creatures suddenly decided they were philosophers and that they wanted to cover themselves in leaves. Okay, sure, suit yourself (literally). Leaves seemed uncomfortable, but they didn’t have tailors like Heaven and Hell did.

  
The same tailor for both realms, actually, which was always uncomfortable, but what can you do? Robes are robes, and only one angel bothered to learn the craft in the end. Demons are collectively too lazy to figure it out, so Hell continued to pay for angel-made robes they painstakingly dyed black after they’d gone. For the aesthetic.

  
Crowley’s robe was a bit gray, but that wasn’t really relevant.

Where were we? An apple. Two bites.

  
And probably trouble, probably questions. Crawly knew questions didn’t lead to anything good (personal experience, as mentioned before), and while “not good” was, strictly speaking, what he was going for, he just didn’t want to be involved in the reprimanding. He slithered away and found a nook to curl up in.

  
It was quiet, but not entirely quiet. Something was probably happening.

  
It likely doesn’t go unnoticed when your new toys do literally the one thing you told them not to do.

  
Crawly would’ve smiled, if snakes could. Bit of a design flaw, really.

  
His whole body jolted at a sharp rumble from the sky (which itself was taking some getting used to, this separation between where you were and where you weren’t. Weird shit, honestly).

  
He found himself peeking out to see if a beast had been summoned, if The Gates of Hell had opened, but instead the sky was a slightly different color, more desaturated.

  
Whatever.

  
Curiosity killed the snake.

He crawled out to slither up the wall for a better look, twisting up tree limbs. Only then did he see the swirling sky, heard the explosion below. Were the new toys broken already? That didn’t take too long.

  
He fell with a gentle thud onto the top rim of the wall.

  
Oh, shit.

Exactly what he wanted to (not) see.

  
White robes, white wings, not-quite-white hair. Doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out, right?

  
The angel didn’t seem to have noticed him, which was probably good, but on the other hand, what a commendation he’d get from Hell if he tempted God’s toys AND an angel in one day (not that anyone really understood days yet, of course. They’d already started to run together, honestly. Come to think of it, had he tempted the creatures earlier today, or was that yesterday?).

  
Anyway. If he did well, maybe he’d get a day off.

  
To do what? He didn’t know.

  
Not much to do when we’re only a week into the universe.

So, an angel. On the wall.

  
Distinct lack of flaming sword.

  
Questions meant trouble.

  
And curiosity killed the snake before, and it would again and again.

  
Let’s see what happened next, yeah?

  
The demon did his thing, sidling up close to the angel before rising from the ground and taking on his demonic form. Black robes rippled out as he transformed, and his black wings extended in a burst of color. The angel about fell over from surprise (notably, not fear?) and Crawly bit back his laughter, forcing his face into some awkward contortion of indifference.

  
Fuck, what was he going to say?

  
Um.

  
“Well, that went down like a lead balloon.”

  
What kind of opening line is that? The fuck?

  
“Um. Pardon me?” the angel replied, eyebrows scrunched, looking rather like the demon was a minor distraction from his more pressing concerns.

  
“I said” – Crawly considered lying and changing what he’d said to something cooler, but nothing came to him – “that went down like a lead balloon.”

  
“Ah. Ah, yes.” The angel was bobbing his head in a nod, but still didn’t seem to totally get it. Crawly shrugged. Maybe they didn’t have balloons in heaven. Or lead. Probably used holy pens or some fuckery. Use the essence of light for ink. Number 2 pencils were okay, but he’d always wondered what a number 1 pencil was. Guess that’s what angels used?

  
“Bit of an overreaction, if I’m honest,” Crawly found himself saying. “First offense and all that. Don’t see the big deal about knowing the difference between good and bad anyway.” Especially since angels know the difference, and aren’t they supposed to be all “art holier than thou” or something?

  
“Well, it certainly must be bad,” the angel pointed out with a strange mix of bewilderment he feigned poorly as confidence, “or surely you wouldn’t have been involved.”

  
Crawly hadn’t known what the apple did, actually, but sure. Let’s go with that.

  
“I was simply told to make some trouble. Part of the job description, you know.”

The angel was looking off in the distance toward the darkening sky. “You’re a demon. I can’t imagine you’re capable of anything but trouble, and certainly not good.”

  
The demon couldn’t stop a smile from slithering across his lips. “That’s right.”

  
The angel wouldn’t look at him and it was seriously getting on Crawly’s nerves. Look at me, damn it. You’re supposed to be afraid of me.

  
He found more words tumbling out of his mouth, not even totally sure where he was going with this. How does one tempt an angel, anyway? What was he trying to tempt him with, a debate on morality? This whole fucking plan had been utter trash from the start, and some more self-aware part of his brain was pretty sure this might’ve just been an excuse to talk to the angel.

  
No way in Hell, or Heaven, or this plane of existence, that he was every going to admit that, not even to himself.

The angel still looked troubled.

  
Not troubled by the damn demon, though.

  
Oh, actually. Crowley had an inkling of what was on the angel’s mind, after all. “Didn’t you have a flaming sword?”

  
“Er.” What was that face?

  
“Yeah, I saw it before,” the demon continued.

  
“Well...”

  
“Flaming like Hell. Ha. Looked rather impressive.”

  
“You see-“

  
“Gone and lost it, have you?” Can you fucking imagine?

  
“Oh, no, certainly not. I just…”

  
“Well?” Come on angel, you can trust me. I’m just a friendly demon.

  
“I…” he looked Crawly in the eyes for the first time. “I gave it away!”

  
The angel’s eyes were a pale blue, like the sky before the storm.

  
Wait, what?

  
“You gave it away?!”

  
“Not so loud!” The angel looked flustered and like he was seriously regretting this entire interaction. Crawly couldn’t agree (at all, not even a little). The angel rambled for a moment, trying to explain why the two creatures from before (whom Crawly followed with his eyes beyond the garden – guess they weren’t dead after all) were now in possession of the flaming sword specifically designed to guard the Eastern Gate. Crawly wasn’t even really listening.

  
The angel gave the damn sword away.

  
Is that allowed?

  
The angel clearly had the same thought.

“I-I do hope that was the right thing to do. It felt right at the time.”

  
The angel looked at Crawly with imploring eyes, as though he desperately needed the demon’s approval to feel better. “You’re an angel. I think the right thing to do is all you can do.” He tried and failed to bite back the sarcasm.

Relief flooded the dense angel’s face. Had anyone ever looked at him like he’d given them the moon? (and yes, the moon wasn’t actually there yet, but it’s an apt phrase Crawly would decide upon later).

  
“Oh, I do hope so,” the angel was saying, finally looking away from the demon’s burning eyes. “I’ve been consumed with worry all afternoon.”

  
Tiny drops of water were falling from the sky. The first rain, gentle, pattering against Crawly’s face. He decided he didn’t like rain a bit. It tasted like salt, trailing down his cheeks and lips. Dredged up memories best left alone, let’s be honest.

  
Demons don’t cry.

“The thing is,” Crawly said suddenly, hoping to get away from becoming too contemplative (always dangerous), “I keep wondering whether I actually did the right thing, with the apple business. I could get in a lot of trouble for doing the right thing.” He nudged the angel’s arm with his own, smirking. “Funny if we were both wrong, eh? If I did the good thing, and you did the bad one?”

  
The angel looked like he wanted to laugh, then like he might cry. “That’s not funny at all, demon.”

  
Crawly tore his gaze from the angel and felt his smug expression quickly fade. “No, guess not.”

  
It was raining harder. Crawly made a disgusted expression, and with a sudden movement beside him, a long, white wing extended over Crawly’s head.

  
The angel was very determinedly not looking at him.

  
Crawly took the opportunity to step closer, enjoying the shelter.

  
The angel was getting drenched, and Crawly felt a wave of guilt (not that he could identify it then – demon, if you recall?). He didn’t lift his own wing, though he heavily considered it and came damn near when the angel shivered.

This angel was too tempting to leave alone, he decided.

  
This is what kids of the 21st century might call an UNO Reverse Card Moment.

  
It’s your move.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if it's utterly cringy, this is the first fanfic I've ever posted online. I sincerely hope it was entertaining!


End file.
